Emerald Ignition
by Cyclone
Summary: All the cards are on the table. It's time to change the future. Part two of Emerald Flame.
1. Prologue

Title: Emerald Ignition (0/7)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: All the cards are on the table. It's time to change the future. Part two of Emerald Flame.

Author's Note: Nothing to say here, really. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

Faith stared.

"What. The. F*ck?"

With Xander's permission -- and under his supervision -- she had been venturing out and doing a little discreet crime-fighting in L.A. again; low-risk on-the-job training, Xander called it. She found herself standing in one of Sunnydale's abandoned warehouses, surrounded by an array of unfamiliar, high-tech objects. Robotic assembly arms lay dormant on tracks laid into the floor, and at the center sat a hollow, thick-walled octagonal tower about four feet tall.

"Not that I mind the company," Cortana said, "but I'm not very useful in your ring, so I took the liberty of setting up a dummy program to put this place together through your ring's communication link with Willow's new mainframe."

"So... what are we supposed to do with all this?" Faith asked. "And shouldn't we tell Xander?"

"Just plug me in."

* * *

His name was Charles Gunn. He was a fighter, a leader, a brother. He fought the good fight, hunting vampires through the streets of Los Angeles. For the past few weeks, however, he had been going by another name: Gangbuster.

It was a strange story, one involving a man dressed like a bat, a girl, and a demonic slave labor camp hell dimension.

He didn't even **want** to think about that right now, or the "gift" from Batman he was wearing, but the costume was armored and kept the vamps from snacking on him in the middle of a fight.

"That the best you got?" he taunted, twirling the sharpened tonfas around before plunging one into the vampire's chest.

"Police! Freeze!"

He turned, "F*ck." He ducked down an alley.

His partner at his side and his pistol at the ready, John Spartan charged forward, "Damn it, Mike. Why do we always seem to attract the nut jobs?"

"I still say it's your fault," Mike Harrigan grumbled from behind as John tried to figure out which door the perp had ducked into. He frowned and called out, "Hey, John!"

"What?"

"Where'd the vic go?"

* * *

"Aaand CUT!" the director called out. "All right, everyone, take five!"

The lead actor headed back to his trailer. This particular week, they were shooting on location in New Zealand rather than on a set back in the States. It did mean he had less time for his extra-curricular activities -- it was hard to get away for a quick vampire hunt in the open fields they shot at in New Zealand than it was in a big city -- but they needed the exterior shots.

"Hello, son," an unexpected voice greeted him as he entered his trailer.

He frowned and closed the trailer door behind him, "Father. What brings you here?"

"Certain events have been set in motion, my son. We may soon need to take direct action. I just... felt that you deserved some forewarning."

"'We'?" the actor asked warily.

"Not the family, if that's what you're worried about," his father assured him. "A somewhat more select group I belong to."

* * *

Cordy scowled.

"I **still** can't believe you got me to wear this."

"Would you rather fight vampires in that armored yet stylish costume or in your Prada?" Willow pointed out.

Cordy cocked an eyebrow, "If this is what you call stylish, then you're even more of a lost cause than I thought, Rosenberg."

Willow pouted. "Okay, rephrase. Would you rather fight vampires in that armored and slightly ridiculous, yet amazingly sexy costume that hides your identity, or risk getting caught fighting vampires in your Prada by your father? You won't get vampire dust or demon goo on your clothes if you wear the costume."

"'Demon goo'?" Cordy blinked. "Demons have goo?"

"**Lots** of goo," Buffy chimed in, "and it usually stains something awful."

"...alright," Cordy mumbled, "you have a point. But couldn't you have shopped in the non-B&D section?! Do you have any idea the kind of looks I get from the laundry help?"

Buffy snorted, "Hey, it's better than fishnets."

"Says you," Cordy snorted back." "I mean, I learned more about my parent's sex life when the help asked why I had some of my mother's things. Eww, much? And anyway, my legs would look so much better in fishnets than yours ever would."

"Okay, TMI," Buffy said, leaning away from Cordy. "Seriously, you wanna switch?"

Cordy rolled her eyes, "Puh-leeze. Skinny as you are, the top would fall off."

"What was that?" Buffy's eyes narrowed.

"You heard me, Screech. You've got good lungs, but not much else up top. How many megaphones have you wrecked now?"

Buffy growled and lunged.

Willow unconsciously clicked on the A/V recorder, seeing as how it might be necessary to hand over to the police as evidence in the murder that was about to take place, whoever the victim might be. At least that was what she told herself.

* * *

"Hey, John," Mike Harrigan called as he entered their office.

"What?" John Spartan seethed as his knitting needles clacked together at a furious pace. As if Phoenix and Batman weren't bad enough, now he had some kook dressed up like Gangbuster to deal with.

"Put the shawl down, the captain wants to talk to us."

"It's an afghan," John growled, "not a shawl."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Mike waved it off. "Bust hump. Something's up."

The captain greeted them with a thin smile. "Okay, you two clowns, I know how much you like your costumed kooks," he held up a photograph, "so I've got another one for you."

"Green Lantern?" John sputtered. "You've gotta be shitting me."

* * *

The planet was called Nasya. For three hundred years, the Nasyans had lived in peace, ignored and nearly forgotten by the goa'uld as a whole. The UNSC, or the Tauri as they were called, had recently made contact with them and arranged for a research outpost.

The alliance could not have come too soon. Death Gliders strafed the village as UNSC personnel, including SG-1, helped evacuate the Nasyans in the face to destruction.

Capt. Samantha Carter, PhD, second in command of SG-1, was giving CPR to an injured Nasyan when the man suddenly reached up and held her in place, startling her. The man slumped down as Sam tore herself away. She paused to recover, her eyes glowing momentarily.

"Carter! We've got to go!"

* * *

"Hello, neighbor!"

Rebecca Baxter turned in surprise. She had just gotten off the phone and had been deep in thought. She had been thinking about what Xander had left in her safekeeping until Tara was ready. The question was, when would she be ready? She wasn't sure she was objective enough to determine that, so she had (reluctantly) called her aunt up in San Fran, only to find out she had passed away back in March.

She gave the man a measuring look. He was fairly tall, well-built, with a sincere grin on his face. He looked confidently relaxed, leaning across the low fence separating the two properties, but she could see a fluid power in his muscles as he waved.

A cynical part of her mind figured him for ex-military and probably vamp-bait within the month. This **was** the hellmouth, after all.

"Hi," she answered shortly.

"Name's Charlie," he said, reaching over the fence and offering a hand to shake. "Charlie Kawalsky."

"Rebecca. Obviously you're not from around here."

"Just moved in," he confirmed, hiking a thumb to what was presumably his house next door. "Down from Colorado. Lined up a job at the high school."

_Great,_ Rebecca thought sarcastically, _one of those kinds._ A bit too free with information, a bit too friendly, probably lured in by the whole "small town charm" idea. And he worked at the school. She revised her estimate, dropping his life expectancy to two weeks and concluding he was probably going to be a demonic sacrifice instead.

"You wouldn't believe the deal I got on this place," he rambled on. "Real estate prices are so low! Not at all what I was expecting in California."

Rebecca revised her estimate again. If he made it through the week, it would be a miracle.

"Well, see ya 'round!" Charlie gave her another jaunty wave before heading into his house. A column of sparkling white light announced his mentor's arrival.

"So," Leo asked, "how are you settling in?"

"Just met one of my charges," he answered. "I think we'll do fine."

"You did lay it on a bit thick, though," Leo pointed out. "You're practically asking to get eaten with that attitude."

Charlie shrugged, "Part of the act. Who'd pay attention to someone they figure's going to be dead next week?"

Leo just smiled and shook his head.

* * *

Patrice Miller was a police officer. Specifically, she was one of Sunnydale's finest. She was also possibly the only member of SPD who wasn't either self-deluded about the nature of the town or completely owned by City Hall and part of the cover up. She had been the former not too long ago, but being possessed by a demonic snake assassin from outer space with delusions of grandeur had opened her eyes.

Now, she found herself on the night shift with decidedly non-standard gear. A nightstick sharpened to a point. Blessed silver bullets. A crucifix. A squirt gun filled with holy water. A gorget beneath her uniform collar. A nice new snakeskin belt that served as a constant reminder of what had happened.

There had been a situation with a few reanimated corpses earlier, but the "neighborhood watch" she oversaw had taken care of it quickly enough, thanks to the forewarning from a certain young man who remembered the future.

It was thoughts of how she was going to file that report that occupied her mind when she found the bodies in the alleyway. The clouds obscuring the moon cleared for a brief moment.

"Shit."

Cause of death was incredibly obvious. Something had torn open their skulls and scooped out their brains.

"Gonna be one of **those** nights."

* * *

Author's Postscript:

Bit of a time skip, hence making it a separate story. Lots of stuff here is just a snapshot of the larger Emeraldverse, though.


	2. Chapter One

Title: Emerald Ignition (1/?)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: All the cards are on the table. It's time to change the future. Part two of Emerald Flame.

Author's Note: This chapter is Tenhawk-approved.

* * *

"Xander."

"Gah!" the Green Lantern jerked back in surprise from the library computer, where Cortana's avatar appeared on the monitor. He frowned, "Um, aren't you supposed to be in Faith's ring?"

"I can't do much good in her ring," Cortana explained, a look of long-suffering patience on her face. "So I arranged for some parts to be delivered so I could assemble a proper supercomputer capable of handling my base code."

He blinked dumbly, "Oh."

"There's something you should know," she said.

Xander frowned, "What is it?"

"You and Faith are the only active Stellar Sentinels at this time," Cortana said. "But there are some whose deaths were never confirmed, and there are species with sufficient life spans to survive to this day."

"What are you saying?" he asked, not yet daring to hope.

"I'm saying there may be some of the old guard still out there. And all they'll need is a ring."

There was a long pause.

"Give me names, sectors, last known locations, time frames. Give me everything."

Cortana smiled and complied.

* * *

It wasn't looking promising. The list of Stellar Sentinels who were not confirmed dead was short, and after eliminating those who could not possibly have survived due to the limitations of their biology (translation: who must have died of old age if nothing else), there were only two names left on the list.

Xander wasn't going to investigate Andvari just yet. His species was intergalactic, and Xander wasn't ready to initiate contact with a civilization of that level yet.

So, instead, he was here, over another planet, in search of what might be a pipe dream. A Stellar Sentinel who has been inactive for the last two thousand years and was probably dead anyway.

"Well," he muttered as he began scanning the planet with his ring, "here goes."

* * *

Bro'os was not pleased. The demonic loan shark better known as "Teeth" was finding an unusual number of his "clients" (some would say "victims") were winding up dead. Dead while still trying to pay him back. It was cutting into his profits.

The fact that the one responsible had taken to removing the brains just meant that it was the same guy, and that was really pissing him off. It wouldn't be the Mayor -- serial killings would draw too much attention -- so it had to be someone else, someone who, sooner or later, was going to be gunning for him.

He was in his penthouse, giving into his rage as he tore apart the furniture. He wasn't a barbarian -- he liked to think himself above that -- but the thin veneer of civility was barely even skin deep. He snarled against as he slammed his fist into one of the broken halves of the coffee table, shattering it to splinters.

"Pathetic."

He whirled around, eyes sweeping across the room to settle on the shadow barely visible through darkened glass doors leading to the balcony. "Who said that?"

"I've been watching you, you know," the voice rasped. "I thought you and I might... share a kinship, but you're nothing but a common criminal. You're a demon trying to be human. Nothing like me."

"And just who are you?" he demanded.

"A superior predator."

The glass doors shattered.

* * *

"We don't need two Oracles," Willow declared.

Jenny raised an eyebrow, "I thought you were Wisp?" The two were heading toward the house shared by the Baxter girls and Faith for a meeting called by their new police contact.

The redhead flushed, "That was a different life, Ms. Calendar. I'm Oracle now."

"So where does that leave us?" the computer teacher asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Well, how do you feel about fishnets and formal wear?"

Jenny snorted, "I'm a technopagan, not a combat witch."

"Fine. How about calling yourself Watchtower?"

"Why do I have to change? What's wrong with my current handle?"

"Wrong genre," her student answered. "And you can't be Oracle because I took that name first, and I'm the one running the Birds of Prey. Unless you'd like to take over..."

"Fair enough. Watchtower it is."

* * *

"Are you all right, Xander?" Giles asked, a note of concern in his voice. The young Green Lantern had seemed... distracted... while Patrice was filling them in about what she had found. "Xander?" he prodded.

"Hmm?" the teenager looked up, as if noticing the Watcher for the first time. "Yeah... yeah, Giles, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Giles frowned. "You seem a little... distracted."

Xander shook his head, "Just thinking. Nothing important." He glanced at Patrice, then looked back at Giles, "I know zombies don't eat brains. Yet we had zombies earlier. And now we have people whose brains were eaten. Theories?"

"I'm afraid I can only conclude the events are unrelated," the Watcher said. "Ovu Mobani isn't interested in consuming brain matter, and we disposed of it before the zombie situation could get out of hand to begin with."

"That's my conclusion too," Xander nodded, "especially since this didn't happen last time around."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Bad," Xander answered without hesitation. "It means either my future memories can't be trusted at all, or I've somehow changed something to bring some sort of brain-eating monster to town. And I just can't see how the latter could have happened."

"Perhaps you've just forgotten?" Giles offered.

"Unlikely," Xander shook his head. "It was a pretty memorable night, and-"

"Reclaimer."

Xander blinked as Cortana's face appeared on the computer in the corner of the room.

"We have a situation," the ancient AI said. "I have General Lethbridge-Stewart on the line."

Giles's eyes went round, staring at the AI's avatar, "General Lethbridge-Stewart? General **Sir Alistair Gordon** Lethbridge-Stewart? The **Brig?!**" His head whipped around to glare at Xander, "Would you mind explaining why one of Britain's most decorated officers would be calling you?"

"Somehow, I doubt it's a social call, G-man. Excuse me." Xander picked up the nearby phone. "All right, Cortana, patch him through."

"Patching him through now."

"General, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I've got a Yank with a serious problem."

"According to certain Brits, all Yanks have serious problems. Care to be more specific?"

"You remember that team you ran into on the ship? And the particular species they were dealing with?"

Xander stiffened, "You have my attention."

* * *

_So, what do you think?_ Xander thought as he flew across the Atlantic.

_I do not like this, Alexander,_ came the reply. _She is likely to detect my presence._

He snorted, _Yeah, well, it's not like I can just leave you behind. Besides, I have the most powerful weapon in the universe on my side._ He paused, then added, _And I told you, E, the name's Xander._

_Do not get cocky, Alexander,_ she warned him, not even dignifying his last comment with a response. _You know as well as I that even the most powerful tools have their limits._

_Yeah, yeah,_ he replied, mentally tuning her out as she began to lecture.

_Alexander!_ the voice in his head suddenly snapped in exasperation. _Are you even **listening** to me?!_

* * *

"He **left?!**" Buffy's jaw hung open. "We've got some... brain-eating monster he didn't think to warn us about, and he **left?**"

"Buffy," Giles said patiently, "I'm given to understand it was an emergency. Considering just who was calling him, I'm unsurprised he decided it took precedent."

"I don't care if the President called him, Giles," Buffy snapped. "We need him **here**. He's Green Lantern!"

"Hey!" Faith snapped, a little irritated at the Slayer's attitude. "What am I, B? Chopped liver? In case you've forgotten, I'm a Green Lantern too, and besides, if X didn't know about this, how much is he gonna do?"

"Th-they're right, Buffy," Willow said hesitantly. "This is **Xander**. You know him. He wouldn't leave us unless it was an emergency."

* * *

Xander stared incredulously at the video feed.

_It appears, Alexander, that your fellow Tauri still have much to learn,_ the voice in his head commented dryly.

_No shit, E,_ Xander snorted. He looked over at the Brig and SG-1 (minus one), "So, you found out she's snaked, and you locked her up."

"Well, yeah," Jack replied, a little bewildered at the look on his face.

"In a cell," Xander clarified.

"Uh huh," Jack nodded slowly.

"With bars."

"Yeah..."

"Bars that are easily far enough apart for a symbiote to slip through."

Jack paused at that, looked at the video feed, then shook his head, "You know, we're usually not this stupid. I swear."

The Brig was already snapping out orders.

Xander ignored the general and turned to the rest of SG-1, "So, what's it been doing so far?"

"The symbiote claims to be Tok'ra, StellarSentinel," Teal'c answered.

"The Tok'ra are supposed to be a rebel splinter faction of goa'uld," Daniel interjected. "Supposedly, they broke away from the System Lords for moral reasons."

"Oh, the Tok'ra are very real, Doctor Jackson," Xander assured the archaeologist. "Or at least, they were. Whether they still survive to this day or not, I don't know."

"And just how do you know that?" Jack asked suspiciously. The question was echoed in the curious expression on Daniel's face.

Xander held up his right hand, displaying his power ring, "My info's a little dated, though. There hasn't been an active Stellar Sentinel in some two thousand years."

_Alexander, if she truly is Tok'ra..._

_I know, E,_ he nodded. _I know._ He looked back at the video feed, "I'll need to talk to her."

"'Talk'?" Jack cocked an eyebrow.

"Well, what exactly did you **expect** me to do?" Xander asked, rolling his eyes at the colonel. "I'm a Green Lantern, not a surgeon."

"Are you saying you can't get it out of her?"

"I'm **saying**, Colonel, that trying to do so forcibly isn't an optimal solution," Xander countered acidly. "If I try to pull the snake out and it fights me, it'll release a toxin into Captain Carter's blood stream. I figure I've got a twenty -- maybe thirty -- percent chance of containing the toxin before lethal levels enter her system, less than ten percent to keep her from being crippled permanently in some fashion."

"I already lost one teammate to getting snaked," Jack spat. "I won't lose another."

"Then you'll let me talk to her."

* * *

"The bounty?"

"A quarter million American."

"The target?" the broker's eyes glittered in anticipation.

"Janna Kalderash," the prospective client placed a photograph on the table. "Otherwise known as Jenny Calendar."

"My, my," the broker commented. "One of your own?"

"She failed the clan and then betrayed us by refusing to return to us as ordered."

"I see. Location?"

"Sunnydale, California."

The broker's expression soured, and he said regretfully, "I am afraid we cannot accept."

"Half a million?"

"You misunderstand," the broker said. "This isn't about money. We have an... agreement with certain elements on the hellmouth. We will not match our rings to his."

"I thought the Order of Taraka always completed their contracts."

"We do, unless the client cancels or is unable to pay," the Tarakan broker answered. "But that doesn't mean we're stupid enough to accept every contract sent our way. I suggest you stay clear of the hellmouth." He rose to his feet. "I believe our business is done, Mister Kalderash."

* * *

Author's Postscript:

As I said earlier, this chapter is Tenhawk-approved. But he did have some issues with the jump cuts and thought the scenes were too disconnected. *shrug* Oh, well.


	3. Chapter Two

Title: Emerald Ignition (2/7)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: All the cards are on the table. It's time to change the future. Part two of Emerald Flame.

Author's Note: Nothing to say here, really. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

Jack eyed Green Lantern suspiciously. Something about the way the boy -- and he **was** a boy; the mask couldn't hide that -- moved and the occasional distant look in his eyes set off all sorts of alarm bells in Jack's head. He just wasn't sure what or why.

"What's with the green glow?"

"The symbiote might make a break for it while we're talking," Xander answered. "The shield will protect me if it does."

"Oh," Jack nodded. That made sense. It didn't mean he trusted the kid, though, even if he had saved his life a while back.

Carter -- or was it Jolinar? -- had been relocated from the standard holding cell to one of the VIP suites that had been set up for visiting dignitaries as well as in anticipation of off-world diplomacy. It wasn't ideal, but the VIP suites were the most secure rooms next to the holding cells... and they didn't rely on bars.

Xander swept in with confidence, the faint green glow outlining his body, radiating from him like a halo. Jack was a step behind him but stayed at the door as Xander crossed the room to where Carter had retreated to at the stern command of the two armed Royal Marines guarding the makeshift cell. Satisfied, the marines withdrew their weapons, allowing Jack to close the door behind them.

The Green Lantern looked at Carter coolly, subtlely scanning her with the power ring. The results matched with everything he had been told so far. Unfortunately, it gave no insight as to whether Jolinar was telling the truth or not.

_So, E, how do you think we should handle this?_ Xander asked.

_You should not have so much faith in me, Alexander._

_Why not?_ he shot back. _You're the oldest of us, E. You and me and Faith. We're all that's left. And this Jolinar is..._

_She is **not** one of mine!_ she snapped. After a moment, she added solemnly, _And as for why... because I failed. I am the last of the old order, Alexander, as you are the first of the new. My order died millenia ago, and I was unable to stop it. If yours follows the same path, it will suffer the same fate._

_That's **not** helpful._

_You still seek my advice? Very well, then; here it is: Trust yourself, Alexander._

He considered that.

"So," he said, causing Jolinar to jerk in surprise at the sudden break in silence. "Jolinar of Malkshur."

Jolinar nodded warily, "That is my name." Jolinar recognized the young man from Carter's memories. More than that, she easily matched it to the legends she had heard, legends that were centuries old even before she was birthed. She was uncertain what would bring his attention, so she prepared herself for anything.

"I've accessed our records. Egeria made no mention of you."

Anything except that.

_Subtlety, thy name is Alexander._

_Well, what else do you expect me to do with Colonel Suspicious watching us from the corner, E?_

"Ah, question," Jack called from the door, raising his hand.

"Yes?" Xander asked, his voice filled with strained patience as he glanced at the colonel.

"Who's Egeria?"

It was Jolinar who answered, "Mother of the Tok'ra movement and an inspiration to those of us who followed. Most Tok'ra are her children, but I was underlord to Cronus when I rebelled."

"Bet **that** ruined your shot at Employee of the Month," Jack muttered. Xander and Jolinar ignored him.

Xander's gaze swept back to Jolinar, "You know what I need to verify this, Jolinar: Contact with the Tok'ra, or at least one Egeria would trust."

"How do you know Egeria?"

"That's complicated."

"Most things are with our kind," Jolinar said, hoping to provoke a response by implying a similarity between her and him, despite the fact that she could sense no naquadah in him.

"Yes," Xander agreed, "they are."

"You have not answered my question."

"At this point, I don't have any reason to. You're the prisoner here, not me, and I don't trust you. More to the point, you're in no position to negotiate anything. Tell me how to contact someone Egeria knew who can verify who and what you are."

"Or?" she asked.

"You don't want to know 'or,'" the colonel said from where he stood by the door. It bothered him that he seemed to be missing half the conversation.

"Shut up, Colonel."

As Jolinar considered his point, her -- or rather, Carter's -- eyes flicked over to where Jack stood by the door. Xander nodded in understanding and said, "Colonel, would you please step outside for a moment?"

"Sorry, not happening."

"Sir, please," Carter turned to look at her superior officer, "I'm asking this to expedite things."

"And I'm telling you it's not going to happen, Captain."

"Not to put too fine of a point on it, Colonel, but I can **make** you leave," Xander pointed out, never taking his eyes off of the woman. "And not necessarily through the door," he added after a moment.

"The Royal Marines outside might take issue with that."

"I honestly don't care, Colonel. What I'm asking from Jolinar, if she's telling the truth, would endanger the lives of all the Tok'ra if it fell into the wrong hands."

"And you think **I'm** the wrong hands?" Jack scowled, feeling a little insulted. "Just whose side are you on?"

"I'm on the side of Earth and at war with the System Lords," Xander replied evenly. "Whether that actually puts me on the same side as the UNSC has yet to be determined. I don't much care for secret military organizations, Colonel; they tend to stink of rat. The **only** reason Jolinar and I aren't having this conversation elsewhere already is because I don't have adequate facilities to contain her if she's lying. So, you are leaving the room. Voluntarily or otherwise."

"All right," Jack ground out between his teeth. "Fine." He knocked a pattern on the door and stepped out after the marines unlocked it. They were recording everything on the security cameras and newly-placed bugs anyway.

He frowned as he saw someone approaching down the hall. "Hey," he called, stepping forward and placing a hand on the intruder's chest, "this area's under lockdown."

The man's hand came up and took hold of Jack's wrist. The Ashrak's eyes glowed as electricity coursed into Jack's body from the hara kesh concealed in the Ashrak's hand, paralyzing the surprised colonel. The two Royal Marines responded immediately, opening fire. The Ashrak raised his hand, generated a defensive shield with his hara kash, deflecting the incoming rounds, even as he reached down with his free hand, pulling the colonel's service pistol free from its holster as Jack slumped down.

After using Jack's pistol to shoot the two marines, the Ashrak opened the door, only to see something green flash before darkness claimed him.

"God damn assassins," Xander grumbled.

* * *

"Unscheduled activation!" Ianto announced over the PA system a little disbelievingly as he stared. "Unscheduled activation!"

The activation was clearly not an off-world activation, as Green Lantern was standing right in front of the stargate, an unconscious figure slung over his shoulder. Energy poured from his power ring into the stargate, dialing it manually, leaving the dialing computer powerless.

The wormhole was established, and SG-1 and the Brig arrived just in time to see Green Lantern disappear through the event horizon before the stargate disengaged at the sudden loss of power, as the UNSC's systems weren't routing any power to it.

The Brig stared into the embarkation room for a long moment before turning and glaring at Jack, "Briefing room. Five minutes."

* * *

"When exactly did leaving the room seem like a good idea to you, Colonel?" the Brig asked, his voice deceptively mild.

"When it came down to either leaving voluntarily or possibly ending up in the infirmary, sir," Jack answered honestly. While the camrea footage was fine, the multiple listening devices they had placed in the room were worthless. Right around the time they saw Green Lantern using his power ring to generate another force field, one that surrounded both of them, the audio feeds cut out.

Presumably, that was the purpose of the second force field.

"What was the situation in the room?"

"Tense, sir, and it would have probably continued to go south if I hadn't left. Green Lantern doesn't trust us. Well, more accurately, he doesn't trust secret military organizations as a general rule. Sir, he was requesting Jolinar provide information on someone vetted by someone named 'Egeria' to verify her status as a Tok'ra."

"Roman goddess of fountains," Daniel interjected.

Jack turned, "Fountains?"

"Also childbirth."

"How do those two go together?" Jack asked, a mixture of confusion and morbid curiosity on his face.

"It doesn't matter," Daniel shook his head. "She was also adviser to Numa Pompilius, a legendary ruler."

"So their talk about her being the mother of all Tok'ra could be legit?"

"I'd say that's a reasonable conclusion," Daniel nodded.

"Great," Jack said. "So how does Green Lantern know her?"

"If you hadn't given up, we might know that," the Brig growled.

"Sir, this goes back to the choice me leaving willingly and you filling out the Joint Forces Casualty Incident reports. And me being benched for at least a month. Let us please not revisit the possibility of me being under the long-term care of Napoleon Fraiser."

"I'll remember that crack the next time you're in the infirmary, Colonel," came a voice from the entry way. Jack paled and turned.

The Brig nodded a greeting to the UNSC's Chief Medical Officer and asked, "How are my marines, Doctor?"

"We lost McCoy," she said. "Givens took a round to his left lung, but he's stable now."

"I see," the Brig nodded. "Thank you, Doctor. Dismissed."

Janet gave Jack a smirk as she left the room. It wasn't friendly or innocent in the least. Sharks came to mind. Jack was worried, really worried. She wasn't also called the Queen of Needles for nothing.

* * *

Author's Postscript:

There you go. My first update for the new year.


	4. Chapter Three

Title: Emerald Ignition (3/7)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: All the cards are on the table. It's time to change the future. Part two of Emerald Flame.

Author's Note: Nothing to say here, really. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

"Hey, Uncle Rory!"

The thoroughly soused Harris squinted and took a moment to identify the person standing at his door as his nephew, Xander. "Hey, Xander, what's up?"

"You still got your taxidermy stuff?" Xander asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Couldja make a belt for me outta this?"

Rory blinked at the snakeskin Xander had handed him. It wasn't shed skin either; it had been carved from the critter itself. He frowned and turned it over in his hand, "Where'd you get this, anyway, kid? Never seen its like before."

"Trust me, Uncle Rory," Xander said. "You don't want to know."

Rory shook his head, "If you say so, kid. A belt shouldn't be a problem."

* * *

"Xander!" Buffy screeched. "Where have you been?!"

"Dealing with something," Xander said.

"And who's the dead guy?" she asked, waving at the spare room in the Baxter home where he had left his the Ashrak host.

"He's not dead," Xander pointed out. "He's just unconscious, a recently-freed victim of possession. Not something you need to worry about, Buff."

"Possession?" she retorted. "That's hellmouthy. That's my business."

"Actually, no," he said. "Not demon. Not ghost. Funky snake thing. Anyway, it was out of your jurisdiction. Definitely further than you could have gone in those heels. It's an ongoing case."

"You sound like a cop," Patrice interjected.

Xander turned and shrugged, "In a sense, I am. Either way, it has nothing to do with our brain-eater. Any leads?"

"Not much," she said, shaking her head. "A few more vics, all down by the docks. City Hall's hushing it up."

Xander nodded, "Buffy?"

"Ran into a few brainless demons," the Slayer replied. "So not much new there, really. Except for that shark demon."

Xander's head snapped around, "Shark demon?"

"Yeah, found it in a dumpster near one of the big hotels," she said. "Down by the waterfront. Brain scooped out."

Patrice whirled on the Slayer, "And you didn't think that was important?!"

"Cool your jets, Officer Miller," Xander interceded before it got ugly. "Buffy's a Slayer. She patrols. She slays. She doesn't do investigative work." He leaned over to the police officer and murmured, "Listen, keep an eye on our guest, okay? He kinda had the same problem you had until a short while ago." He cleared his throat and said, "Faith, Buffy, come on. Let's go check the docks."

"Cool," Faith said. "Practical applications of pier pressure. I can get into that."

Xander groaned and looked at Buffy, "And you said **my** sense of humor was bad."

* * *

The three walked through the dock area. Faith and Xander were in civilian clothing, a single ring-flare away from their uniforms, but Buffy was in her fishnets and leather. Even Faith had run out of jokes over the past few months.

Still, she did have great legs. Unfortunately, her California diet mentality seemed to be causing her to lose a little too much weight... Xander tore his eyes away from Buffy's legs and the way the black one-piece hugged her hips, only to see Faith smirking at his ogling of the blonde Slayer.

_What?_ he thought sourly. _No comments from the Peanut gallery?_ After a moment, he frowned at the lack of response, _E? What's wrong?_

_I am... concerned. About Jolinar._

_Family comes first, E,_ was Xander's answer.

_I see,_ came the frosty reply. _I trust you see the irony of that statement, Alexander._

Xander winced. _We're on mission, E. People are dying. The Ashrak's taken care of, and whatever the UNSC does to Jolinar, they'll be doing to Carter as well. Jolinar will keep._

_You have considerable faith in their goodwill._

_Don't try and tell me you lasted as long as you did without learning how to read people, E,_ Xander thought. _Loyalty up, loyalty down. They'll move heaven and Earth for Carter if that's what it takes; they won't mess with her unless Jolinar does something truly idiotic._

_...very well, Alexander,_ she answered with grudging acceptance.

_Please, Jolinar,_ Xander sent the thought across the pond, _don't do anything stupid._

"Hey!" a voice called out. All three turned.

* * *

_We should do something!_ Jolinar huffed.

_No,_ Sam retorted as she deliberated over the chess board. _We're in good hands. So long as we don't do anything stupid, we'll be fine. We just need to wait for Green Lantern to return._

Sam finally advanced her pawn deliberately into the line of fire, incidentally unblocking a bishop that now finished pinning down the black king and prevented it from moving.

_You're reckless,_ Jolinar commented, even as she pressed the attack with her rook, capturing the pawn Sam had just moved and adding it to the small army of captured white pieces which stood as silent testimony to the Tok'ra's aggressive strategy.

_No,_ Sam replied, her lips quirking into a smile, _I just keep my eyes on the goal._ She advanced her half-forgotten white knight into place, completing the plan she had started setting up four moves ago, and announced aloud, "Checkmate."

* * *

Xander tilted his head, "Cor- Huntress?! What are you doing here?"

The purple-clad cheerleader rested her fists on her hips, "What? Did you seriously think I'd let you go after that thing without me? Black Canary there might be the Slayer, but **I'm** the Huntress."

Xander groaned, then frowned as he noticed the three girls nodding. "Uh, what is it?"

"The three of us have comm links to Oracle," Huntress said. "She's suggesting we split up to cover more ground."

Faith nodded, "You can send up a flare if you run into anything, sensei, and I can do the same of any of us do."

"Right," Xander nodded, a brief flash of envy at the idea of real-time intelligence backed up by Willow-brain at his beck and call. "Works for me."

_There, there, Alexander,_ came a teasing thought. _It's all right. At least you have me._

_Gee, thanks, E,_ he shot back. _I suppose I'm better off. Cortana would probably hijack the link anyway, and I shudder to think what it would be like to have **her** in my head._

* * *

At the Baxter home, Willow frowned as static crept into the audio feed.

"Canary? Huntress?" she called into the headset even as her fingers danced across the keyboard, trying to tweak the NRO bird she had hacked into. "Do you read? I'm getting some interference on the audio feed."

Her frown deepened as static began to streak across the monitor. "What the hell?"

Suddenly, for a brief moment, the screen cleared, revealing Cortana's face, before the static overwhelmed the AI's signal again. "Cort--...--cle--...--sition's--...--mpromi--...--RUN!"

Willow paled, catching only the last word clearly. She rose to her feet and barely managed to whirl around in time to hear a crashing sound from the kitchen.

* * *

"Black Canary, Huntress, this is Cortana," the AI's voice emerged from Buffy's earbud, a little tinny from the tiny speaker. "Oracle's position is under attack. Electronics in the area are non-responsive, and I can't use her computer to contact Faith."

It was one of the peculiar oddities of the Green Lantern rings. They simply didn't interface well with Earth technology. Had they been in range of existing Stellar Sentinel equipment -- a crystal-based technology that bore little resemblance to Earth computers -- Cortana would have had no trouble keeping in touch with the rings. As it was, the comm link Willow and Faith had jury-rigged between the Oracle computer and Faith's ring was the best they could manage.

"On our way," Cordy replied. "Canary, my car's over by Pier Thirteen."

"I'll meet you there."

* * *

Two witches and a cop faced off against what could only be described as a humanoid shark. Willow was hovering over the unconscious man Xander had brought back, even as the Baxters and Patrice stood opposite the man-shark.

_I hope blessed silver works,_ Patrice thought. Firearm discharge paperwork was exceedingly lax at SPD, especially when the rounds fired weren't standard hollow points. Silver jacketed rounds meant no one would even look twice.

"Tara," Rebecca said calmly. "Stand back."

"But, Mother..."

"You aren't ready for this," she said. "Incendere!"

The shark creature flinched away from the lance of flame, and Patrice opened fire as well, but the soft and light silver rounds merely flattened themselves against the man-shark's thick skin.

With a roar, the shark creature lunged forward, backhanding Patrice and sending her flying with one hand, while the other grabbed for Rebecca, catching hold over her blouse. His mouth gaped open and closed on her side.

"MOTHER!" Tara shrieked. She whirled on the man-shark and flung out an arm, "Fulmenos venite!" Lightning arced out and struck the shark creature, sending him flying back.

He slowly rose to his feet, hissing, "Out of the way, little girl."

Eyes blazing, Tara stepped between the man-shark and her mother's prone form and declared, "You shall not pass."

Patrice was busy reloading her pistol with standard jacketed rounds, silently impressed with the teenaged girl. It seemed everyone around here had hidden talents. Willow, meanwhile, was crouched behind the couch, watching in awe.

"T-Tara..."

The younger witch turned, only to have her mother reach up and press something into her hand. She blinked at it for a moment before she recognized it.

"He said... when you were ready..."

_Ready? Am I ready for this? Do I want this?_

She turned back to face the man-shark and slid the power ring onto her finger.

"I do."

Willow eeped.

* * *

Author's Postscript:

Okay, seriously, did anyone **not** expect Tara to get a ring?


	5. Chapter Four

Title: Emerald Ignition (4/7)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: All the cards are on the table. It's time to change the future. Part two of Emerald Flame.

Author's Note: Nothing to say here, really. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

At the waterfront, Xander's power ring pulsed green. It took him a moment -- and help from the voice in his head -- to identify it, as things worked differently here than back where he had learned to use the ring. He was Green Lantern Prime, and his ring was alerting him that a power ring in the area had chosen a new wielder.

And, so far as he knew, there were only two other power rings in the universe.

He paled and sent up a green beam to act as a flare before flying up into the sky himself. He was quickly joined by Faith, who looked at him quizzically, "What's wrong?"

"Trouble in paradise," he said as he rocketed back to town, Faith a moment behind. "Try to raise the others."

"Yo, Black Canary, Huntress, Lady Lantern here. You copy?" She waited for a moment, "Huntress, Canary, come in." She waited again, "Shit!" She turned, "No dice.

"Figured," Xander said. "Bastard attacked home base."

* * *

Tara stalked out of the house and into the street through the hole the man-shark had made when the giant construct fist she had created smashed him and sent him flying. The street was deserted, and in Sunnydale, no one was inclined to investigate the sounds of violence after dark. The glowing green fist opened and grabbed a tree, uprooting it and clubbing the man-shark with it. She approached the man-shark, only to stiffen as he looked up and glared into her eyes.

Sharks had an unusual sense called electroreception. They could sense the bioelectric fields generated by living organisms and use that to track prey. The mutated man-shark had an overdeveloped version that allowed him to hear radio signals... as well as output electrical interference that could disrupt electronics and even, at close range, nervous systems.

Tara stumbled back and fell to the ground, her concentration broken. She shook her head to clear it, only to see the man-shark standing next to her. He reached down and hauled her up, then pitched her across the street. She rolled over and saw the man-shark stalking toward her to finish her off... until it was struck by a red convertible doing better than eighty miles an hour.

"Canary, if you **ever** even **think** of driving my car again, I **will** shoot you!" Huntress declared as she vaulted over her late convertible's windshield onto the hood and began peppering the mutant shark creature with crossbow bolts. Buffy had gotten to the car first and was waiting in the driver's seat by the time she had gotten there.

For her part, Black Canary had raised her megaphone to her mouth. Slayer lungs powered a deafening screech that was amplified by the megaphone to physically devastating levels before the megaphone failed under the stress. The artificially-enhanced Canary Cry crumpled a section of asphalt and sent the shark creature tumbling back.

It was this scene which greeted two Green Lanterns as they touched down. Xander stared at the shark creature and blurted out, "What the hell are you supposed to be? Karshon?"

He looked up and snarled, "I'm what you made me, boy."

Xander considered his words for a long moment, then gaped, "Coach Marin?!"

"Coach Marin's dead," the shark creature hissed. "But I like 'Karshon.'"

"How about 'sushi'?" Faith offered, sending a giant green axe blade descending down on Shark, but the mutated swim coach dove to the side.

Meanwhile, Xander's eyes tracked over to the house, and he snapped out an order, "Tara! Get your mother to the hospital! We'll take care of sharky boy here."

The newest Green Lantern's eyes widened, and she whirled around, dashing back into the house. Xander turned and rose into the sky, sending pulses of green energy down toward Karshon, who dodged and weaved with inhuman agility. The energy pulses punched holes in the street, which looked for all the world like the result of some demented concrete-eating gopher.

Karshon was smarter than he looked, though, and proved it when he stopped dodging and dove **into** one of the holes and down into the darkened sewers below.

"Shit!" Xander swore as he poured energy into the openings, flooding the immediate area of the sewers with deadly green energy until Huntress and Black Canary had to abandon the street for fear of their footwear.

After a moment, he released the energy and scanned the area, "No trace."

"That means you got him, right?" Buffy asked.

"I hope so," Xander said, then turned and flew toward the hospital. He landed gently by the emergency room entrance and transformed back into his civilian clothes, then hurried into the emergency room.

"Tara?" he said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Tara turned and buried her face in his chest, sobbing.

"Shh," he said, stroking her hair comfortingly. "It'll be all right."

"I'm not ready for this," she sobbed. "She was wrong. I'm not ready for this. I don't deserve this."

It took Xander a moment to realize she was talking about the power ring.

"Hey," he said. "You can handle this, Tara. Trust me on this. I've seen you deal with tougher situation." Admittedly, he didn't like to think of Willow as a "tough situation," but by that point in time, she certainly was.

And Tara had handled that mess better than any of them would have.

* * *

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Charles Kawalsky hated hospitals. The sharp and unmistakeable sterile smell of disinfectant was... unnatural. It also reminded him of the UNSC's infirmary, where he'd lost control to that... **thing** wrapped around his spine.

He'd take a jungle with bullets flying and the smell of cordite in the air any day.

But here he was in Sunnydale General Hospital by the side of his neighbor, a victim of a "wild bear attack." He shook his head; he supposed it offered some variety from the usual "gangs on PCP."

The injury to Rebecca Baxter's side was severe, and the doctors had done what they could. This was in God's hands now.

God's... and Charlie's.

He gently laid his hands on the woman's side, then took a moment to utter Shepard's prayer before going to work: "Dear Lord, please don't let me f*ck up."

This was, after all, his first real attempt at healing a near-mortal injury. Leo had assured him that screwing it up was basically impossible -- it was a part of who and what they were -- but then again, Leo had been a medic during his time in service and therefore had some idea of what he was doing. Charlie had been just a shooter, albeit a very good one. A white glow bathed the wound, and the woman stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, just enough to see a figure vanish in a swirl of lights.

Charlie reappeared in his living room, slumping down into his couch and breathing a sigh of relief.

"Good job."

Old reflexes snapped to, and Charlie found himself pointing his pistol -- a Colt M1911A1 -- at his mentor before his conscious mind identified the voice. Lowering the pistol, he nodded, "Thank you, sir."

"I mean it," Leo said. "You're doing fine." He smirked, "And stop calling me 'sir.' I worked for a living, Major."

* * *

Xander dozed in the hospital waiting room chair. His eyes snapped open, and he took a moment to recognize Faith standing in front of him, a big grin on her face. He blinked in confusion, then looked down and saw Tara asleep and curled up against him. He glared at Faith and brought a finger up to his lips before carefully extracting himself from the newest Green Lantern's grip.

He stepped away and murmured, "Well, Faith?"

"The birds are fine," she reported quietly. "No sign of the fish. Also heard from the Doc. She's gonna be fine. Apparently, it looked worse than it was."

"Good to hear," he nodded. He glanced back at Tara's sleeping form. "Keep an eye on her, okay? I've still got some unfinished business out of town."

As he left, Tara stirred and looked around. Spying Faith, she unfolded herself and rose to her feet, looking around, "Where's...?"

Faith shrugged, "Unfinished business."

Tara frowned. "And Mother?"

"Docs say she'll be fine."

Relief flooded through Tara, and she sank back into the chair. Then she thought about Xander and scowled.

_My mother's in the hospital, and he **leaves?** That jerk._

* * *

"I really am turning into a comic book character," Xander muttered in disgust as he negligently tossed the Green Lantern back issue across the desk. Karshon, aka the Shark, was a fairly minor -- if gruesome -- Green Lantern villain, a predator who consumed brains to get smarter and enjoyed the thrill of the hunt. The comic book villain savored fear, which was the writers' justification for pitting him against Green Lantern, the hero who knew no fear.

"Are you all right, Xander?" Joyce asked, gently opening the door and sticking her head in.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Mrs. Summers," he said. This room -- the room he remembered belonging to Dawn in the other future -- had been a spare storage room until he had moved in, courtesy of the CPS decision. "I've still got some things out of town to deal with. Could take a few more days."

"All right," she nodded with reluctant acceptance, then left and closed the door.

He picked up the phone, "Cortana? Get me the Brig."

* * *

The small cave was a natural formation out of immediate sight of the main RNAD Coulport facility. It also served as an emergency evacuation point from the UNSC's concealed facility beneath Coulport and was where Green Lantern had requested they meet.

Exactly **how** Green Lantern knew about the hidden egress was a question that made the Brig extremely uncomfortable.

A faint green light appeared above and grew stronger. Had it not been night time, it would have gone unnoticed. Green Lantern landed gently, an unconscious figure slung over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

Xander approached the Brig with the Ashrak's former host in tow, ignoring the Royal Marines flanking him. Making contact through Cortana had seemed the safest way to get back in touch with the UNSC, and...

His train of thought was interrupted when he heard the distinctive clicks from all around him. He looked around at the L85A2 rifles leveled at him. He looked back at the Brig in sheer disbelief.

"You're **not** serious."

With his power ring, the trickiest part if they opened fire would be keeping the ricochets from killing everyone **else**, thanks to the enclosed space they were in. Unless they had gold bullets or something like that. Four crackle-whines sounded a moment later, and Xander glanced over to where a quartet of marines held armed staff weapons aimed at him.

"Okayyy, maybe you are serious," Xander muttered. He looked back at the Brig, "So, General, what's with the unfriendly reception?"

"Would you care to explain your rather abrupt departure earlier?"

"Yeah," Xander said, holding up the unconscious man. "This man was host to an Ashrak, a goa'uld assassin sent to hunt down and kill Jolinar of Malkshur. I was confirming her identity, and while I was at it, I got the Tok'ra to extract the symbiote. So, how do you feel about rescuing Jolinar's true host and striking a blow against Cronus while we're at it?"

* * *

Author's Postscript:

Another chapter in the can.


	6. Chapter Five

Title: Emerald Ignition (5/7)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: All the cards are on the table. It's time to change the future. Part two of Emerald Flame.

Author's Note: Nothing to say here, really. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

"This must be the most insane mission proposal I've ever seen," the Brig muttered.

In truth, the proposed plan itself was deceptively simple. SG-1 and SG-3 'gate to a planet near the target, and then Green Lantern would ferry them to the target planet. SG-3 would then secure the stargate with SG-5 reinforcing them through the stargate, while SG-1 and Green Lantern proceeded to the objectives. Green Lantern would serve as primary extraction for SG-1 and the primary objective.

The problem was in trusting a comic book character with the lives of three of his teams. Not to mention the fact that SG-1 was hardly qualified for deep penetration behind enemy lines. They were an exploration team, not hostage rescue, damn it! Dr. Jackson had barely qualified with his sidearm, Teal'c was clearly in favor of the mission for revenge, and Capt. Carter was compromised by a goa'uld!

The general picked up and leafed through another file, the results of the medical examination of the presumed former host. That he had been a goa'uld host was certain, based on McCoy and O'Neill's testimonies of the Ashrak's attack outside the suite Jolinar/Carter was being held in. The examination had given the man a clean bill of health and indicated that there was no sign of a current goa'uld possession.

But then again, they hadn't be able to detect the symbiote in Kawalsky after his surgery last year either. While the autopsy had apparently identified what they had missed last time, this would be the first time they'd put that knowledge to the test.

"Penny for your thoughts, General?"

He looked up in surprise. "Green Lantern," he identified the intruder. "How did you get in here?"

The superhero shrugged and answered, "I'm pretty good at the stealth thing. Hung around people who love that dramatic sneak-away-while-you-aren't-looking stunt long enough to pick up a few tricks." He leaned over on the general's desk, "You don't trust me, do you?"

"Frankly, I can't see how I can trust a fictional character."

"You want something real, then?" Xander said. "Something tangible? You want to know who I am?"

_This is unwise, Alexander!_

His hand was halfway up to his mask before the Brig answered.

"No."

Xander paused, "Why not?"

"What I don't know, I can't reveal," Lethbridge-Stewart admitted quietly, staring the mission proposal, "and I won't be obliged to report." Xander got the feeling there was something more going on.

_Probably doesn't trust the politicians he has to report to,_ Xander thought grimly.

_Why not?_

_Don't ask, E,_ Xander replied. _It's... complicated. Suffice it to say that most militaries tends to have a certain sense of honor. And politicians don't._

_So why would an honorable man serve one who wasn't?_

_Because he's honor-bound to, E,_ Xander answered. _No one likes politicians, but ironically, they're the ones who keep the generals honest. His duty is to queen and country first, but since he heads a multi-national task force, he'll have to answer to not just the Crown, but also Parliament, and probably the US government as well at minimum. Congress is probably footing the bill for most of this operation._

"You have a go," the Brig interrupted the silent conversation. He pinned Xander in place with a glare, "Don't make me regret this."

"I won't, General," Xander promised. He grinned, "Though I can't speak for the Tok'ra."

_Alexander!_

_Hey! You saw Anise!_ he retorted as he left the room.

_So did you,_ came the dry response. _In great detail, as I recall._

_So Freya was hot. Sue me._

_"Sue"?_

Xander spent the next twenty minutes trying to explain the concept of a lawsuit to the voice in his head. In the end...

_You Tauri are mad,_ she concluded. _Utterly, utterly mad._

* * *

The Jaffa turned as the chappa'ai powered up and began to rotate, chevrons locking into place.

"Jaffa! Kree!" bellowed the ranking Jaffa warrior. Staff weapons crackled to life and were leveled at the stargate. There were also a pair of turret emplacements that mounted powerful support versions of the staff weapons.

Not a single one of the Jaffa realized the wormhole was outgoing until the grenades went off.

SG-3's assault to take the stargate went off without a hitch as the Jaffa were caught off-balance and with their weapons pointed the wrong way. Xander had used his ring to remote dial the stargate, something the power rings of this universe apparently were designed to do, which his was able to now, thanks to a software update courtesy of Cortana.

"Stargate's secure," Col. Makepeace declared as the stargate engaged again. "SG-5 and ELC-1 are coming through."

"What's ELC-1?" Xander frowned... then stared as the light tank emerged from the event horizon.

"**That**," Jack said, pointing at the tank, "is ELC-1. First Extraplanetary Light Armored Cavalry Battalion, Alpha Company, First Platoon. Four FV101 Scorpion light tanks, each upgunned with a ninety-millimeter main gun. Malaysia cancelled an order, and the Brig snapped them up for the First Battalion." Jack decided against mentioning the fact that most of First Battalion only existed on paper; in terms of actual soldiers, A Company was all there was, mostly made up of UNIT personnel.

Xander nodded, then turned to their objective. It was a large pyramid structure that dominated the surrounding forest. He quickly dismissed the few outlying buildings; they were looking for the planet's commanding Underlord, and ego made it clear exactly where she would be.

"Let's go," he said, breaking out into a jog. SG-1 was right behind him.

As they approached the pyramid structure, a trio of staff cannon emplacements were quickly torn from their positions and tossed aside like children's toys. Xander barely paused in his drive onward.

"Carter."

"Sir?"

"Remind me not to piss him off."

"Hey!" Xander called over his shoulder. "What are you waiting for? We've got time to kill!"

Sam and Daniel both snickered.

"Wow," Jack muttered, "that was worse than the worst I ever said."

"No, Jack," Daniel disagreed, "it really wasn't."

Jack scowled.

* * *

Kryse, underlord to Cronus, cursed as the silver-tattooed Second Prime assigned to this planet reported the Tauri intrusion.

"Stop them!" she commanded. "Deal with them yourself if you must!"

* * *

Xander ducked back behind the wall as a flurry of staff weapon blasts flew past. "Man," he muttered, "this room to room fighting sucks."

"As compared to..." Jack asked curiously.

Xander looked at the colonel strangely and answered, "As compared to flying overhead with impunity, raining death and destruction upon my enemies, like unto an invincible god of war."

"Riiight..." Jack said, stepping back from the obvious megalomaniac.

"Oh, come on, Colonel," Xander snorted. "You're a combat pilot. Don't try and tell me you haven't felt the same." He glanced at the corner and shook his head, "This is getting us nowhere."

He stepped out into the line of fire and sent a stream of green energy pulses in response to the staff weapon blasts. A trio of the yellow pulses slammed into his chest and sent him flying back.

There was silence.

Jack peeked around the corner. "Clear."

Jolinar/Sam moved forward and knelt by the fallen Green Lantern, who blinked up and grinned at the blonde, "Now, **that's** a sight for sore eyes.

"Are you all right?" she demanded. "You've been shot."

"Yeah," Xander said, sitting up. "I kinda noticed. I'm fine."

"But I thought your ring didn't work against yellow?"

"It doesn't," he shrugged. "But the uniform isn't just for show. It's not spandex, you know. It's energy absorbent and stab resistant. Less effective against blunt trauma and not too good against ballistics, though."

"Why?" Sam asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Mostly because bullets didn't **exist** when the material for these uniforms was invented," Xander replied. He chuckled and added, "Millions of years of development, hundreds of thousands of civilizations, and only recently, on Earth, did someone think flinging small, blunt bits of metal at supersonic speeds was a good way to kill someone."

Jack turned, an incredulous look on his face, "So, wait, you're telling us your uniform's one weakness is **bullets?!**"

"And your armor's weakness is plasma," Xander retorted. "And guess what kind of weapons everyone else in the galaxy's using."

* * *

Teal'c held up his hand as they were confronted by a small contingent of Jaffa. The leader's silver tattoo identified him as a Prime.

"Shel kek nem ron!" Teal'c called out.

The Prime's nostrils flared, "Shol'va!"

Before anyone else could react, Teal'c charged, staff weapon firing, and soon, he was in melee. Xander watched, evaluating, as the Jaffa warrior dealt with his brethren. Teal'c's skill with the staff weapon in melee was considerable.

_He'd give the new Buffy a good run for her money,_ Xander thought, impressed. _What do you think, E?_

_I think... he has potential, Alexander._

_He's certainly got the 'overcome great fear' part down pat,_ Xander agreed.

* * *

"That's her," Sam said. "Rosha."

The woman turned. "So, you know my host," she said, her voice with the distinctive echo of a goa'uld. "It appears she still has her secrets. I was unaware of any contact with the Tauri."

Sam snarled.

A green mallet bopped Kryse on the head before Sam -- or more likely, Jolinar -- did something rash.

"Well," Jack commented as the objective slumped to the ground. "That was anticlimactic."

"Would you prefer a running gun battle, Colonel?" Xander asked dryly. "Perhaps with a few Death Gliders making strafing runs? Or a Ha'tak making with the orbital bombardment while we're at it?"

"No! No. Anticlimactic is good," Jack said. "Let's get out of here." He turned back toward the door they had come through, only to dive out of the way as staff weapon fire began pouring through. "Just had to open my mouth," he muttered sourly.

Sam fired a quick suppression burst from her MP5 before ducking back behind cover. She looked over at Teal'c and Xander, "Any ideas?"

"Just one," Xander shrugged, turning away from the door. He raised his ring hand and sent a construct smashing through the wall to the outside. The battering ram quickly shifted to a giant hand which grabbed the smashed segment of stone wall and yanked it back into the room. He turned and stuffed the section of masonry into the doorway, blocking off the entrance. He turned to look at SG-1, "Shall we?"

Jack shook his head and muttered, "I **gotta** get me one of those."

A short trip in a green bubble later, and they were at the stargate. As they dialed out, Xander looked back at the pyramid they had raided and said, "You guys go on ahead. I've got something to do first."

He shot into the sky again, then began pouring energy down toward the ground, leveling the pyramid and razing the planet's surface. He blasted the ground as the UNSC personnel 'gated out, until finally, he looked down, satisfied.

Carved into the surface of the planet, recognizable only from above, was the image of a circle with two tangent lines: the Green Lantern symbol.

_Enjoy yourself, Alexander?_

_A message needs to be sent, E,_ he answered. _Rumors are all well and good, but it's time to put the System Lords on notice. The Corps is back._

After a moment, she agreed, _Indeed._

* * *

Author's Note:

Just so it's clear, the silver tattoo for Prime stems from four things. One, Fro'tak had a silver tattoo, so they do exist. Two, if a gold mark means First Prime, then a silver one probably means something special too. Three, if there are First Primes, then logically, there should also be Second Primes and Third Primes and so on. Four, the System Lord and his First Prime can't be everywhere, so there has to be some sort of chain of command in place, even if we never see it, or the whole empire would devolve into chaos.


	7. Chapter Six

Title: Emerald Ignition (6/7)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: All the cards are on the table. It's time to change the future. Part two of Emerald Flame.

Author's Note: Nothing to say here, really. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

Lieutenant General Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart stood in the underground Tok'ra facility. Normally, he would leave negotiations to SG-9, the UNSC's diplomatic team, but the Tok'ra was the first group the UNSC had encountered that was both capable and willing to work directly against the System Lords. This meeting was too important to delegate.

SG-1 and SG-3 were present, the former because of the situation with Carter and Jolinar, the latter for security. Green Lantern was also present, having been instrumental in arranging for this possible alliance.

As far as the Brig could tell, everything was going smoothly, but the Tok'ra introduced as Cordesh/Firnan seemed unusually agitated. He would be keeping a sharp eye on him; something didn't sit right.

"Wait!" Kryse protested as she was strapped to the extractor. "There is a spy among you! Spare me, and I will tell you who!"

Garshaw of Belote was unimpressed. "And how would you know who the spy is?"

"Because I planted him, using this same technology you intend to use on me," Kryse answered.

"Then we will soon know who it is anyway, from Rosha," Sam -- or was it Jolinar? -- pointed out.

"NO!" Kryse shrieked. "I will not die this way! I cannot! I refuse to accept this!"

Her rant was interrupted by a thundering boom that shook the entire complex. Everyone looked around.

Xander looked up, "Ring, full planetary scan."

"Scanning..." the ring declared. "Four Ha'tak-class cruisers detected in low orbit."

He turned to Garshaw and said dryly, "I don't suppose we're expecting any other guests, are we?"

* * *

"General," Xander said, looking up at the innocuously empty-looking sky, "I can't stop them all. Even my ring has limits. Some of them will get through, and it looks like they're wanting prisoners, or they'd already be glassing the planet."

"Understood," the Brig nodded. He turned to SG-1's commanding officer, "Colonel, we'll need reinforcements. Get your team back to the UNSC, and send the First Battalion through, soon as you can, then head for the Alpha Site and have Hummel send as much of his brigade through as he can spare." He shaded his eyes and looked up, "This is going to be a big one. Don't forget the MANPADs."

"You should be the one giving those orders, sir," Jack argued.

"I am," the Brig replied coolly, deliberately misinterpreting. "This alliance could rest entirely on what happens here today, Colonel. I won't abandon that."

"What do you intend?" Garshaw of Belote asked, having overheard the conversation.

"You do not have enough time to evacuate your people and equipment before they strike, madam," the Brig answered. "So, we will fight to give you that time."

"Fight a System Lord? Head on?" she questioned. "Are you mad?"

"No, madam," he replied easily. "We are Tauri. We're professionals."

* * *

_So, what do you think, E?_ Xander asked as they approached the first wave of Death Gliders and Al'kesh. _Do we dance with these guys or blow through and take on the Ha'taks?_

_That depends, Alexander._

_On what?_

_On how much you trust the UNSC._

Xander considered... then decided. Green pulses of energy blasted a path through the Death Gliders and Al'kesh, and he didn't even slow down. The Death Gliders wavered, their pilots indecisive, before several curled around in pursuit.

Xander smiled in satisfaction as he spun around and stopped. Giant green hand constructs reached out and grabbed the pursuing Death Gliders, then hurled them at a few of the Gliders that continued their journey planetside. They smashed into them and sent them careening into each other like billiard balls. Xander spun again and accelerated back towards the motherships.

* * *

Death Gliders entered the atmosphere, locking onto the chappa'ai's position. Not far behind them were Al'kesh troop transports and bombers.

The Brig peered through the targeting sight of the Starburst missile launcher, ignoring the lock indicator. "Steady..." he said. "Steady..."

"They're well within the envelope, sir. Permission to fire?"

"Not yet. Steady... steady... NOW!"

A forest of Starburst and Stinger missiles streaked up into the sky, several of them arcing under the Death Gliders and striking the more dangerous Al'kesh behind them.

"Cover!" the Brig bellowed. He shoved a shocked Garshaw to the ground as the surviving Death Gliders strafed their position. He rose to his feet and glanced at the Al'kesh troop transports flying low and hastily landing some distance away.

"Scorpions! Fire!"

90mm HESH rounds slammed into the landed troop carriers, turning many of them into flaming coffins, trapping their passengers within and dooming them to a dreadful, fiery end. Still, others remained unscathed long enough to off-load their troops, troops who found themselves in a lethal kill zone, covered by multiple overlapping fields of fire, both from tripod-mounted machine guns and handheld SAWs and assault rifles.

Thousands of years of warfare culminated into this one moment, showing at least one System Lord why the Tauri were to be feared. Practice made perfect, and thousands of years of war, unrestricted and unrestrained, produced the deadliest masters of war in the galaxy.

For even a god can die.

It was these thoughts that passed through Hyperion's mind as he stood on that devastated battlefield. Hyperion was one of Cronus's longest serving and most loyal underlords, serving him as Heru'ur had served Ra, as his military commander and advisor. He was one of the few who had survived battle with the thrice-damned Olympians, and yet, he knew fear.

His current host served him well. It was the son of one of those very same Olympians, a hok'taur of impressive physical ability. Nirrti had tried to sway his loyalties before, but her interest in his host was limited, as she was far more interested in a hok'taur with advanced mental abilities rather than mere physical prowess.

More fool she, in his opinion.

He curbed his fear and strode forward, his shield protecting him from the withering weapons fire that scythed Jaffa down like so much wheat. One of the Tauri armored vehicles swiveled its massive cannon around to point at him, and he simply raised his staff weapon and fired a flurry of shots at the barrel.

"Jesus Christ!" Cpl. Dustin Higgins swore as he ducked his head back into the Scorpion 90. "Damn bastard melted the muzzle!"

The coaxial machine gun chattered to life and spat 7.62x51mm NATO rounds to depressingly little effect, the bullets splashing harmlessly on the underlord's energy shield. "Don't worry! We'll replace it!"

"We don't have any spares!"

"I'll think of something!"

Hyperion send a kinetic pulse from his kara kesh at the armored vehicle as he advanced toward it. The shockwave rocked the Scorpion 90, and he stopped by its side, taking a moment to grab it and heave.

"Holy f*ck!" the crew chorused as the eight-ton vehicle was tipped over onto its side.

He turned and sent another kinetic pulse out, toppling a tripod-mounted Ma Deuce and sending its crew flying.

The Brig studied the underlord carefully, then caught Teal'c's arm as the Jaffa defector made to stand up. "What are you doing, Teal'c?"

The former First Prime looked at the general and answered, "I will challenge the underlord and kill him."

"No, you won't," the Brig retorted. "Watch and learn." He turned, "Major Sharp!"

The Royal Marine who commanded SG-5 looked over, and the Brig flashed him a series of hand signals. The major nodded and relayed the orders. Grenades were unclipped.

Hyperion looked up in surprise as two dozen metal balls were hurled in his direction. None were thrown accurately enough or with enough force to be a threat, which in itself was warning enough. The last place he wanted to be was in the middle of a swarm of the Tauri equivalent of tacluchnatagamuntoron, but before he could move, he was bracketed by weapons fire. The bullets couldn't harm him, but they slowed him down in his efforts to get away from the Tauri tacs. And there were so **many** of them.

Then the grenades detonated.

Most of the grenades were unable to harm Hyperion, the fragments slashing through the air only to be stopped by his energy shield, but a few were within the borders of his shield. Most of the fragments from those few shredded his legs into hamburger, while the rest flew upwards into more vital and more sensitive parts of his anatomy.

"And that, Teal'c," the Brig said with satisfaction, "is how we fight on Earth."

* * *

Up in orbit, Xander had singled out the lead Ha'tak and charged, weaving through the defensive fire. He wasn't particularly anxious to test the energy-absorbtion capabilities of his uniform against vehicle-grade weapons, but it was proving difficult to evade, moreso as he drew closer.

Unlike Apophis, these people were taking him seriously.

_Alexander?_

Xander jerked in surprise, _Jesus, E! I'm a little busy here right now!_

_I have an idea,_ she said. Then she explained **what** her idea was.

With a mental shrug, Xander decided to give it a try. He switched his ring to broadcast, "Attention, Jaffa! The time for waiting is over! The Sentinels return, and the days of the false gods are numbered! Who will stand with me? Who will die a slave? And who will die free?!"

There was a long moment of stillness... then the defensive fire started again, at an intensity that risked melting the barrels.

_I don't think that worked, E!_

_On the contrary, Alexander, two of the ships have stopped firing on us._

_Really?_ Xander looked... and nearly got his head shot off.

_Pay attention, Alexander!_

* * *

"Shel kek nem ron!"

The battle cry thundered throughout the hallways of the Ha'tak. The seeds of revolution had been planted long ago, by Egeria, Queen of the Tok'ra. She had been Ra's consort, and therefore, held the allegiance of quite a sizable force of Jaffa, a force that seemingly vanished the day Ra imprisoned her.

When a goddess wielding a power greater than any of the gods turns around and says the gods are false, including herself, what else is one to believe?

At their former goddess's behest, they hid themselves, lurking and waiting, and through the generations, the truth was whispered and word was spread throughout the ranks of the Jaffa. Of the day when the war for freedom could begin.

And today was that day.

* * *

Author's Postscript:

One more chapter in this part.


	8. Chapter Seven

Title: Emerald Ignition (7/7)

Author: Cyclone

Feedback: Please be gentle.

Distribution: Gimme credit and a link.

Rating: Just a little bad language.

Spoilers: Anything and everything.

Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to other people. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Summary: All the cards are on the table. It's time to change the future. Part two of Emerald Flame.

Author's Note: Nothing to say here, really. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

Cronus grabbed the console as his flagship shook, its inertial dampers once again overwhelmed by weapons fire. He suspected the inertial dampers had been damaged, but if so, it was a minor concern at the moment. He couldn't believe this. His mind absolutely **refused** to accept what was happening. Hyperion's forces on the ground were being beaten back. One of his ships had gone silent, a battle raging within its halls. Another had turned on him -- _Shol'va!_ -- and the third had been reduced to drifting wreckage.

His own flagship was shaking apart at the seams, and there was nothing he could do about it.

* * *

Xander flitted through space. With two of the Ha'taks out of the fight and a third on his side, things were looking up, and he no longer felt like the protagonist of a "bullet hell" shooter.

He slashed out with a giant construct sword, which sliced through the flagship's shields, then converted it into a giant drill. After a false start on the main pyramid section -- which, naturally, was painted gold -- he focused on the black superstructure ringing the ship and pierced the hull.

The ship's shields reformed over his entry hole, restoring the atmospheric integrity of the room. Doors slid open on either side of Xander, and he looked around. There was a squad of Jaffa on either side of him.

"Damn it," he muttered as staff weapon blasts started filling the corridor. "Never gets any easier."

_Of course not, Alexander. The Corps doesn't do easy. We do difficult every day, the impossible on weekends._

* * *

Cronus stood in the pel'tak, staff weapon in one hand, kara kesh in the other. He was no coward. He would not run from this... Sentinel. On the other hand, he wasn't a fool either, as evidenced by the cadre of elite Jaffa warriors standing by him.

Finally, the Stellar Sentinel burst into the pel'tak, stopping for a moment. "Cronus," he said calmly.

"Sentinel," Cronus greeted him. "Will you face me? Man against god in honorable combat?"

"Umm..." Xander paused at that, then shook his head, "...no. Especially seeing as how there isn't a god around here. I've fought a real god once. Got my butt kicked. You, on the other hand, are nothing but a bit of uppity fishbait with delusions of grandeur."

"Then come and prove it, Sentinel."

"To who?" Xander snorted. "You? Your brainwashed goons here? I don't think so. You already know the truth, and you'll be dead soon enough. As for your goons? If there were any hope for them, they would have already asked themselves: What does a god need with a starship?"

Xander resisted a flinch as a mild jolt of pain shot through him.

_Hey! What was that for, E?_ he thought irritably.

_**Must** you be so juvenile, Alexander?_

_Um... yes? It's one of the rules, you know. 'Distract the enemy' and all that._

_Distract? Yes. Taunt childishly? No._

_Semantics,_ he retorted. He looked up at Cronus, "I'm sorry. Did you say something?"

Cronus's eyes bulged in rage, and he snarled, "You will die slowly, Sentinel."

Xander shrugged, "That just confirms I'll live a lot longer than you. Let's get this over with."

Cronus leveled the staff weapon. Xander raised his ring hand and sent a giant construct hand out, wrapping it around Cronus's torso and flinging him through the pel'tak's force field and into outer space.

He looked around, "Who's next?"

The elite Jaffa warriors, the best of Cronus's domain, turned to the man who had so handily defeated their god...

Thud!

...and dropped to their knees and bowed in supplication.

"Oh, get up!"

* * *

Xander's flight path back to the planet's surface was a little unsteady, weaving back and forth.

_I think I may have overdone it a little,_ he mused silently.

_Oh, **really?**_ came the mental snort. _Imagine that. Taking on that many Ha'taks and Death Gliders single-handedly, followed by the search and rescue operations after the battle. That ring you created didn't help either; that could have waited. If I weren't propping you up, Alexander, you'd be passed out for the next three days._

_Which is why it's a good thing I have you, E,_ he grinned tiredly. _What would I do without you?_

_Pass out,_ she repeated matter-of-factly. _Then you'd fall into a decaying orbit and burn to death on reentry._

_Gee, thanks, E,_ Xander deadpanned. _I feel better already._

_You **asked**,_ she retorted with a mental sniff.

When he finally landed at the stargate, what he found was a warzone. The battle was clearly over, but the wreckages of Al'kesh and Death Gliders intermingled with the still-burning shells of Scorpion 90 tanks and Humvees. Bodies of Jaffa littered the area, even as a clean-up detail sorted out the human casualties. He quietly accepted the armed escort as the perimeter guards intercepted him and led him to where the Brig was having a discussion with the Tok'ra, SG-1, and what looked like a US Marine brigadier general.

"Ah, Green Lantern," the Brig waved him over. "Welcome back. This is Brigadier General Hummel. He runs the Alpha Site, one of our off-world installations."

"A pleasure," the marine general nodded a greeting, seemingly unfazed by meeting a comic book character.

"I take it things in orbit are under control?" Lethbridge-Stewart queried.

Xander nodded, "You could say that." He turned to Teal'c and stood at attention, soon followed by everyone else present. His body language was enough of a cue. "In retrospect," he said, "I **really** should have done this earlier, but..."

He held out a ring, which floated to the former First Prime.

"Teal'c of the planet Chulak," he said, going through the traditional speech. "You have the ability to overcome great fear. Welcome to the Green Lantern Corps."

Teal'c hesitantly accepted the ring and slid it on his finger. He bowed to Xander and replied, "I am honored."

"Also," Xander said, "I seem to have picked up a few ships crewed by Jaffa rebels. I was wondering if you could take them off my hands. I can't lead a Jaffa rebellion. I've got way too much to do as it is, and besides, the free Jaffa should be led by a Jaffa, not a human."

Teal'c smiled.

"Indeed."

Xander looked around. He looked at Teal'c. He looked at the two generals. He looked at Garshaw of Belote.

"We stand, I think, at a crucial point in time," he said quietly. "Tok'ra, Jaffa, Tauri. I think, here and now, on the site of our united victory against the System Lords, we have the makings of an alliance, forged in battle. What say you?"

* * *

Xander watched as Jolinar transferred from Carter to Rosha in the manner traditional for Tok'ra. He shook his head and sighed, "I really can't say what I'm thinking right now. Ow!"

_Was that really necessary, E?_

_Yes, Alexander,_ came the frosty reply; it felt like an icepick in his brain. _It was._

As the Tauri contingent headed for the stargate, Xander hung back until he felt two presences behind him. "Selmak, Garshaw," he greeted each of them.

"The loss of Cordesh has diminished us," Selmak said quietly.

"No more than any loss diminishes those left behind," Xander pointed out.

"But with others, there is the chance to replenish," Garshaw countered. "The question must be asked: Will you rejoin us?"

Xander closed his eyes, and when he next spoke, it was with a different voice, "Not yet. This is not a true blending, Garshaw of Belote, merely a temporary arrangement while I recuperate and seek out a new host. Until then, I will remain with the Tauri."

Selmak nodded, "Very well."

"But-"

"I have made my decision. Do not be stubborn, Garshaw. You do not know me as Selmak does."

* * *

"You want me to what?" Xander blinked at the USAF major.

"It's not so much what we want you to do," Maj. Davis clarified. "We just wanted to let you know that... President Marshall would like the opportunity to meet you if he can. It can be a private meeting if you want; no one but you, me, the president, and the Secret Service needs to know about it."

"Please tell me he's not some closet fanboy."

"I... wouldn't say that, sir," Davis hedged, clearly trying to figure out what to say.

"Oh, so he's worried I'm a threat. Well, that's okay, then."

"You seem awfully calm about that conclusion," Davis said neutrally.

"Given the power I wield," Xander said, "he'd have to be the idiot some pundits claim he is to not worry about the threat I could pose." He paused and then said, "I'll think about it."

* * *

Xander landed gently behind Sunnydale General Hospital. The house he had acquired for Faith and the Baxters uninhabitable until repairs were made, and he wanted to check up on Rebecca. He gave a half-smile as he saw the quartet of girls emerge from the rear entrance.

"Hey there."

The girls looked up, pinning him with a measuring glance.

He coughed, "Uh, how's Ms. Baxter?"

"Mother is fine," Tara said evenly as she walked up to Xander...

Slap!

...and then turned and walked away, heading toward what appeared to be one of Cordy's cars, different from the sports car Buffy had wrecked earlier.

Xander blinked and looked at Buffy, "Uh, what was that for?"

The Slayer shook her head, a disgusted look on her face, and simply walked away.

He looked at the brunette, "Cordy?"

"Men," she sighed, shaking her head as she followed the two blondes.

"Will?" he pleaded the last girl present.

The redhead rolled her eyes, declared "You're a poopyhead," and followed the others.

_E?_

_If you must ask, Alexander, then you won't understand._

Xander sighed and shook his head as they drove off. He was never going to understand women. Never.

Suddenly, he stiffened as he felt his hackles rise. There was magic crackling through the air, and lots of it if he could feel it so readily. Everyone had some ability to sense magic -- it was why people naturally tended to avoid areas steeped in the supernatural -- but few could consciously sense it. Xander normally couldn't, unless there was a very large amount of magic, but he **could** recognize it when he felt it. It usually meant either Willow was in the area, preparing something big, or things were about to **really** hit the fan. And since the Willow that existed now currently had no interest in magic...

_Alexander!_ the warning ripped through his head.

"Dead Scream."

He barely had enough time to change into his uniform, bring up a barrier, and hurl himself to the side, almost out of the way, before the magical blast smashed through his construct barrier, shattering it like glass, and struck him.

* * *

Author's Postscript:

Betcha didn't see **that** one coming.

This Omake Is Tenhawk-Approved:

"As Alteran weapons go," Xander said, "I'll take my ring over your staff any day. More range, more versatility, and less nagging."

His counterpart winced, and he smirked. Sometimes, it was good to be him.

"Um, my battle staff and companion would like for me to inform you of her displeasure at your... choice of words."

"I'm sure. And lemme tell you, I know how you feel. E was a real pain in the butt until I got her out of my head."

Again, his other self winced, and Xander fancied he could hear a female voice shouting at him. He knew it wasn't possible, of course, but still, the thought was immensely entertaining.

After a moment, Xander decided to show his other self a little pity and added, "And by 'E,' I am, of course, referring to the last of the Corps's old guard, Egeria, Queen of the Tok'ra."

Again, Xander fancied that he could hear the reaction: "Huh?"


End file.
